In the Dark
by Namls
Summary: Experimental piece on Éowyn in her illness post-WiKi


**Author's Note**: Honestly… I'm not completely sure what this fic really is. It's me experimenting. It was not written to be 100% accurate with how Tolkien described the events at the House of Healing, in fact I haven't read that part in a long time and I didn't have my copy of the book at hand when I wrote this. Therefore you might find some factual errors, which I hope you can disregard with. And hopefully this doesn't come across as too pretentious, because it is not meant to be!

**Setting**: "The Return of the King", the chapter "The House of Healing". Spoilers to anyone who hasn't read RotK!

**Disclaimer**: Middle-Earth and the characters in it belong to JRR Tolkien and are used without permission. L

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The world was dark. Dark and cold. Éowyn had never experienced anything like it before. The darkness had swept around her once her mighty foe was slain and now it was everywhere. And still in the darkness she could sense that there was something darker lurking about. She was drawn from the darkness she was in to an even darker one. And there was nothing to stop her.

     The darkness around her made her unsure of whether she was blind or just unable to see anything in the lack of light. Somehow the place she was in seemed to be without senses. She could not hear anything, felt no smell in the air, there was nothing she could feel touching her.

     Then she somehow knew she wasn't alone. Just like she had somehow suddenly known that she wasn't alone before the Witch King. Somebody else was there, she could not see him but she could sense him. Someone who resisted, just as she did, fearing the deepest of darkness that was drawing them in. Someone who was stronger, not in body but in spirit. Someone who had a resistance toward this evil that no human could ever muster.

     She could feel herself drawing closer to the deepest of darkness. She could not do anything to hinder it. She felt that her companion in the dark was better suited for this, he could fight the dark better than she could and it did not draw him in as easily.

     She wished she could reach that spirit. That stronger being who was there with her, a being she had recognised but could not put a name to. That spirit that had stood by her side when she had faced her mighty foe, and was there with her now because of that action. He had faced the great evil with her and now he faced the great darkness with her too.

     Suddenly she felt how his spirit drew closer. But it was not she who was moving away from the utter dark, it was he who was moving closer to it. Not by force, but by choice. His spirit came closer to hers and it passed by her. It gave her warmth as it passed her, and the comfort of having somebody else there with her. She was not alone, she was with somebody.

     She could feel how she was no longer drawn to the darkness with the same force as before. Something stood up against it, something resisted it. And she knew. It was that other spirit. He had gone between her and the darkness ahead of her and with all of his might kept her away from it. She could feel his strong resisting spirit as he tried to protect them both with it. It was stalling her on her way to the darkness, saving her from that place which was more black than any other darkness. Would he be strong enough to keep them both away from the dark, she wondered.

     She felt uplifted and managed to fight the dark. Somebody was there with her, she was not alone, and this somebody was willing to sacrifice himself for her. He was not going to let her drift off toward eternal darkness while he remained behind. But what gave her the most encouragement was that he did not just reach out for her, he put himself in-between her and the darkness. This being cared so much about her that he would sooner drift off to eternal darkness himself than have her do so.

     Suddenly a warm wind blew over Éowyn. Somehow the darkness around her seemed a few shades lighter and she could smell something. A fresh scent which gave her hope. She could feel herself drawn away from the utter darkness, toward the other end which seemed to be getting lighter by the minute. But she resisted. She was somehow aware that her companion did not see the light, did not feel the scent, was not drawn away from the dark. She could not leave him. He had not left her.

     His remarkable inner strength proved to be greater than even a wizard would have guessed. As she pulled back toward him, refusing to leave him behind when he had not deserted her, she was aware that he was pulling himself closer to her. Somehow he could fight the darkness enough to slowly pull himself from it. She could not see anything when she faced his spirit, all there was below her was darkness, but she could feel him getting closer. They met, and with a last mobilising of his strength he pushed her toward the light, only to fall deeper into the shadow himself.

    Éowyn opened her eyes. Her arm hurt and she was freezing, but she could see again, hear again, smell again, touch again. The darkness was no longer there. She was in a bed, surrounded by the oddest collection of faces imaginable, some loved ones and some that were strangers to her. She knew that she was safe again.

     She did not notice him at first. But when she did, she somehow knew. The halfling! The little esquire whom she had taken with her when she rode to battle. He was there, in a bed next to hers, and she knew. It was him. He was the one who had been with her in the darkness. And he was there still. Another halfling was also there, weeping over his friend. Éowyn wished she could do the same but she was too weak for tears. She felt guilty toward this little man clad in Gondorian armour. He wept by his brave friend's side, a friend who would probably have been awake now if he had not used his strength to protect her.

     She somehow knew that it was not merely his resistant spirit that had saved her, or for that matter his actions. It was the love which had prompted him to try and protect her, the love for a woman he barely knew, the kind of unconditional love a soul felt when it met with one of its spiritual kin.

     Looking at him she wished she could send him all of her love to help him the way he had helped her. She closed her eyes and wished it, wishing also that she could take away the pain in the Gondorian halfling's face. She opened her eyes and saw the little man in the bed do the same.

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Was it crap? Should I get over myself and stick to more normal stuff? Is experimenting bad? Can you give me any pointers or suggestions? Leave a review please, I would love to hear what you think. Don't be afraid to tell me that it stinks!


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